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Hawke had been beyond the Rise, and like Vikter, as a Royal Guard, that wasn’t required. But he went out there, nonetheless. Respect blossomed in my chest, warming me, and I reacted without thought, reaching out with my senses to see if he was injured.

I felt the barest hint of the anguish that lingered in him. The battle had eased it, giving him an outlet in the same way my touch would. Temporary, but still effective. He wasn’t injured.

“You are…” His stare was intense and unblinking as he sheathed his sword at his side. “You’re absolutely magnificent. Beautiful.”

I jolted, shocked. He’d said that I was beautiful before once he saw my face, and he sounded like he’d meant it then. But now? He’d spoken words which too often meant nothing and too rarely meant everything. And he said them in such a ma

I needed to get away.

I glanced behind him, searching for the easiest path to escape. I swallowed hard. Hawke may not have realized yet that I was the girl who’d been at the Red Pearl, but there was no way I could let him know it was me up here now. I had no idea what he would do if he realized I was the one on the Rise.

“The last thing I expected was to find a hooded lady with a talent for archery ma

Why did he have to have such a…charming grin? It was the kind I knew numerous others had fallen prey to.

I doubted any of them regretted that fall.

I knew I didn’t.

He extended his gloved hand. “May I be of assistance?”

Swallowing a snort, I lowered the bow, shifting it to one hand. I stayed silent in case he recognized my voice, motioning for him to back up. With an arch of one dark brow, he placed the offered hand over his heart and took a step back.

Hawke bowed.

He actually bowed, with such elaborate flourish that a laugh crept up my throat. I managed to squelch it as I placed the bow down on the lower ledge, propping it against the wall. Keeping my gaze on him, I scooted to the ladder and slowly climbed down, not giving him my back.

The sounds of fighting had all but ceased down below. I needed to get back to my room, but there was no way I could enter the castle the way I’d come out, not with Hawke here. That would rouse suspicion. I slipped the bow under my cloak, hooking it to my back. I flinched as it rested against the still-healing welts.

“You’re a…” He trailed off, an odd look settling into his features. I couldn’t decipher what it was. Suspicion? Bemusement? Something entirely different? His eyes narrowed.

Below, the heavy gates groaned as they reopened for the wounded and dead to be recovered. The Craven would be burned where they lay. I moved to exit the battlement—

Hawke smoothly blocked my path, and my heart turned over heavily as my hands tightened into fists. I forced my fingers to relax. The playful light in his eyes had faded. “What are you doing up here?”

Whatever patience his curiosity had brought was gone. Brushing past him, I knew I would have to go to the ground and lose him in the crowd as people began to leave their homes to take stock of the losses.

I didn’t make it far.

Hawke caught me by the arm. “I think—”

Instinct sparked, seizing control. I spun and twisted under the arm that held mine, ignoring the faint burn along my back. The shock flickering over his face brought a savage smile to my lips. Popping up behind him, I dipped low and kicked out, sweeping his legs out from under him. He dropped my arm to throw out his hands, stopping his fall.

His curse rang in my ears as I took off, racing out of the battlement and onto the i

Something caught my cloak. The force spun me around and jerked me back against the wall. I started to pull away but didn’t make it more than a few inches. Looking down, I saw a dagger embedded deep in the wall, catching my cloak. Stu

Hawke stalked toward me, his chin lowered. “That wasn’t very nice.”





Well, he wasn’t going to think this was very nice either.

I gripped the handle of the dagger, wrenching it free. Flipping it so I held it by the blade, I cocked my arm back—

“Don’t,” he warned, stopping.

I threw the dagger directly at his a

He caught the dagger by the handle, plucking it out of the air like it was nothing, and that was…impressive. And I was jealous. No way could I have done that. I didn’t even think Vikter could.

Eyes glittering like chips of gold, he tsked softly and started toward me once more.

Pushing off the wall, I started ru

A dark form dropped down in front of me. My feet skidded, and I slipped, losing my balance. Damn slippers and their smooth, soft sole! I went down hard on my hip, swallowing the cry of pain as it lanced up my lower back. At least I hadn’t landed on my back.

Hawk rose from a crouch, the dagger held at his hip. “Now that really wasn’t nice at all.”

How had he…? My gaze flicked to the narrow ridge of the wall above. He’d run along that? It couldn’t be wider than a few inches.

He was insane.

“I’m aware that my hair is in need of a trim, but your aim is off,” he said. “You should really work on that since I’m quite partial to my face.”

My aim had been spot-on.

With a silent snarl, I waited until he was close enough, and then I kicked out, catching him in the lower leg. He grunted as I jumped to my feet, ignoring the ache of what was surely a bruised hip and rear. I whirled to the right, and he jumped to block me, but I darted to the left. He came right back at me, and I kicked out once more—

Hawke caught me by the ankle. I gasped, arms pinwheeling until I steadied myself. Wide-eyed, I stared at him. He raised his brows as his gaze traveled the length of my bare leg. “Scandalous,” he murmured.

A growl of a

He laughed. “And such dainty little slippers. Satin and silk? They’re as finely tailored as your leg. The kind of slipper no guard of the Rise would wear.”

How astute of him.

“Unless they are being outfitted differently than I am.” Hawke dropped my ankle, but before I could run, he caught my arm and yanked me forward. Suddenly, I was against him and on the tips of my toes.

Air seized in my lungs at the sudden contact. My breasts were flattened against the hard leather and iron of his stomach. The warmth of his body seemed to bleed through his armor, sinking through my cloak and the thin gown underneath. A flash of heat rolled through me as I dragged in a deep breath. Beyond the rot of Craven blood, he smelled of dark spice and lush smoke. A flush crept into my cheeks.

His nostrils flared, and as crazy as it sounded, the hue of his eyes seemed to deepen to a striking amber color. He lifted his other arm. “You know what I think—”

The blade pressing into the skin of his throat silenced him. His lips thi

“Correction,” he said, and then he laughed as the trickle of blood seeped down his neck. It wasn’t a harsh laugh or a patronizing one. He sounded amused. “You’re an absolutely stu